THE INVITATION (The Marriage Diaries, Volume 5) (3 page)

She’d taken the clip from atop her head, allowing all that soft, glorious hair to fall around her bare shoulders, her skin glowing from the warmth of the candlelight. The material of her black silk negligee matched his pajama pants, and the cut of the gown hinted at her luscious curves, rather than boldly enhancing them. The thin fabric skimmed across her full breasts, highlighting the tight peak of her nipples. His gaze fell to the tempting slit exposing her right leg, all the way up to her hip, where silk laces criss-crossed and secured the side of the gown. Her bare skin showed through, making him well aware of the fact that she wasn’t wearing any panties beneath.

His dick appreciated that fact a whole lot. Desire licked through him, settling in his groin, and as much as he wanted to skip dinner and feast on Jillian instead, he reined in his randy body so he didn’t ruin whatever she had planned.

“Happy Anniversary, darling,” she said, strolling toward him, a sensual smile on her lips.

“Yes,
very
happy,” he agreed. He propped the envelope against the glass vase for her to open later, right next to a wrapped present with his name on it, then pulled her into his embrace and lowered his mouth to hers.

Their lips met, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed as he deepened the kiss. His tongue swept in and tangled with hers, slow and thorough, a seductive, delightful preview to how he intended to end this evening. Before lust could completely fog his brain, he eased back and glanced down into her upturned face. Her still parted lips were damp and puffy, and that unconditional, adoring look in her hazy eyes made him feel like the luckiest man alive.

“Let’s eat before it gets cold,” he said, releasing her.

“Good idea,” she said, amusement in her tone. “The sooner we finish dinner, the better.”

He couldn’t agree more, but knowing how much time and care she’d taken in making this anniversary meal special, he didn’t want to rush.

He sat at the head of the table like he always did, and she took the seat beside him. He reached for the bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, released the cork, and poured them each a glass of the Cristal. They picked up their crystal flutes and toasted to the occasion.

“To the best twenty years of my life,” Jillian said, and took a drink of the sparkling wine. “We’ve come a long ways, wouldn’t you say?”

He set his glass back on the table and grinned wryly. “Yeah, we’ve made it twenty years longer than what your parents ever thought we’d last.”

She picked up her fork and knife and carved into the slice of pork roast on her plate. “When it came to you, I never put much stock in what my parents thought, or believed, or expected. I never, ever, doubted that you’d take care of me and our babies.”

And it had been that unwavering trust and faith in him that had turned Dean from a brash, reckless teenager who’d been heading down a path of personal destruction, and into a man determined to take care of the one thing that mattered to him in a world that had been so bleak and dark before she’d been assigned to tutor him in calculus his senior year in high school.

Those after school lessons had changed everything. He’d been angry and bitter, and hating the fact that one of the most popular and prettiest girls in school had to help him wrap his brain around derivatives and algebraic notations. Yet despite his surly attitude that first day, she’d been patient and kind and not at all intimidated by his bad boy reputation.

Meeting with her after school soon became the highlight of his day and gave him something to look forward to, even if he’d spent more time thinking about kissing her soft lips than mathematical equations. And it hadn’t taken long for him to realize that she kept looking at his mouth, too. After a few weeks of denying their strong attraction, he’d given into the urge to taste her lips, and thought he’d died and gone to heaven when she returned his kiss.

Jillian had been a good girl, a straight A student and the daughter of a prominent family who’d already funded the way for her to attend a private college, and who didn’t approve of a boy from the wrong side of town with no future goals in mind. Dean had known that he was all wrong for her, that he never should have touched her, but he’d been so drawn to her sweet innocence, her genuine smiles, her interest in
him
as a person, that he’d been unable to resist her.

She made him
laugh
when he’d forgotten how. She made him
want
when he’d stopped believing in anything good. She’d pulled him out of a grim existence and had given him something to hope for. She’d made him
feel
when he’d thought his father’s physical and verbal abuse had stripped him of the ability to care for anyone or anything.

Jillian getting pregnant had been completely unplanned, but it had been a gift in disguise that had transformed him from a boy with no direction, into a man committed to give her everything she needed and deserved. Going against her parent’s demands that they give the baby up for adoption, he’d instead married Jillian as soon as she turned eighteen, then joined the Navy for a steady paycheck that would support her and their baby, and eventually trained to join the Navy SEALs.

Every penny he’d earned was sent to Jillian, to pay the rent on their tiny studio apartment, and to take care of her and their sons, who’d been born less than fifteen months apart. Those first few years being separated had been extremely hard and difficult, but he’d been determined that she’d never have to work, a decision that tied directly to his own mother, who’d worked two jobs to support the family because his father was a drunk who couldn’t hold down any job for any length of time.

The horrible memories of his tired, exhausted mother getting home late at night, only to be greeted by a beating because she couldn’t make dinner fast enough for Dean’s father, was something he’d never be able to forget. The terrible cycle repeated itself daily, until his mother just gave up and overdosed on sleeping pills to escape the physical and emotional pain, leaving Dean with a wealth of guilt for not being able to save her from such a cruel and dreadful life.

“Hey, where did you go?” Jillian asked softly, pulling him back to the present. “And what are you frowning about?”

He shrugged, pushed those unpleasant thoughts from his mind, and smiled at her as he swallowed a bite of his buttered green beans. “I was just thinking about all those lean years we had in the beginning of our marriage.” And not once had she complained, or left him for someone better as he always feared she would. She’d always supported him and his goals, no matter that it meant months of separation while he worked his way up the military ladder, so to speak.

“It was definitely a tough time,” she agreed, cutting into an herbed potato. “But look at you now. You’re a successful businessman, making more money than my father does,” she said, and laughed.

“Look at
us
now,” he clarified, knowing she was the reason for everything he had. Jillian’s faith in him slayed him. She was his salvation, his reason for turning his life around when he’d been so close to not giving a shit about anything and probably would have turned out just like his old man if it hadn’t been for her giving him something to truly live for.

“I like where we are,” she said happily, unaware of his darker thoughts as she sipped the last bit of her champagne. “And I really like where we’re heading. You’ve spent so many years working hard and making sacrifices so you could give me all
this—
” she waved a hand to indicate the custom built home, the furnishings, the comfortable life she lived, “—and now it’s your turn to enjoy it, too.”

“
You
deserve all this, and more,” he said, meaning it.

“I have everything I want right here with you. All this other
stuff
is just a nice extra bonus.”

They were both finished with their dinner, and he pushed his plate aside then scooted out his chair. “Come here,” he said, wanting her close. “I want to give you your anniversary gift.”

She stood up then settled herself on his lap, fitting so perfectly against him. Resting one hand around her waist, he reached for the envelope he’d left on the table and handed it to her.

She took it from him and ran her fingers over the one word printed on the front of the heavy linen envelope. “Welcome?” she asked curiously as she met his gaze. “It looks like an invitation of some sort.”

He shrugged off the sudden jolt of nervousness spreading through him. “Open it and you’ll see.”

She slid her finger beneath the flap and pulled out the card tucked inside. “You are cordially invited to The Players Club,” she said, her voice trailing off as she silently read the rest of the invitation. When she was done, she lifted her wide-eyed gaze to his. “The Players Club?” she asked, her tone hesitant.

That uncertainty swirling in his gut escalated a notch. “Yes,” he said calmly, worried that he was pushing her way outside of her comfort zone. “Do you know what that is?”

A slight frown marred her expression, giving him no real clue as to what she was truly thinking. “Yes, I’ve heard of it before. It’s a sex club, right?”

He nodded and stroked a hand along her back in a gentle caress. “A very exclusive, private, members-only club. I just thought we might enjoy trying something new and different.”

She glanced down at the card in her hand again, studying it for a moment before meeting his gaze. “If it’s so private, how did you get this invitation?”

“Mac.” He grinned.

She raised an incredulous brow. “He’s a member?”

“A lot of the guys that work for me are,” he told her, wanting to make sure she realized that fact ahead of time. “In order to get an invitation into The Players Club, you need a referral from a long-term member in good standing. The club also requires every person to pass a confidential background check and health screening before their first visit, which we’ll have done if you agree you’d like to do this.” As a security specialist, Dean liked the fact that every individual had to pass a thorough application process and that there were discreet guidelines to follow. The exorbitant membership fee also helped to ensure exclusivity.

“Do
you
want this?” she asked.

“Yes, but what I want doesn’t matter. It’s your choice, not mine.” It was important to him that she desired the same thing, and wasn’t agreeing just to please him. They’d come a long ways since that day she’d seduced him in his office, but the possibility did exist that she wasn’t ready to take such a huge leap to a sex club. “I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way if you’re not okay with any of this.”

Biting her bottom lip, she worried the soft piece of flesh between her teeth before asking what seemingly concerned her the most. “Do they swap couples there?”

The insecurity touching her features felt like a fist to his chest, and he sought to reassure her. “It’s definitely an option for members, but not a requirement, and there are public and private rooms, depending on a couple’s preference. I’ve been assured that monogamy is respected and I have no intention of sharing you with
anyone
,” he said adamantly. “Have you already forgotten how crazy jealous and possessive it made me to see another man put his hands on you at the night club?”

She ducked her head and laughed, though he didn’t miss the adorable blush on her cheeks. “I remember everything, especially
afterwards
.”

He let out a low, playful growl, recalling how much she’d loved his primal, alpha,
your-my-woman
claiming of her once they’d gotten home. “Yeah, that part was fun.”

Setting the invitation on the table, she turned more fully towards him on his lap and placed her cool palms on either side of his face, holding his gaze with her very somber one. “Just to be very clear, I don’t want to share you with anyone, either. They can look all they want, but no touching, unless you’d like to see a cat fight break out between two grown women, complete with nail scratching and hair pulling.”

“That sounds totally hot.” He smirked.

She playfully smacked his bare chest. “I’m serious,” she said, though she was smiling. “Looking is allowed, but absolutely no touching.”

He gave her a very solemn look. “Agreed.”

She exhaled a soft breath. “Then yes, I want to go to The Players Club with you.”

He blinked at her, surprised by her quick decision. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, positively sure.” She gave him an adorably sheepish look. “Truthfully, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go to a sex club, so I can at least scratch that off my to-do list.”

“Or add it to our must-do-again list,” he suggested, just for the hell of it.

“We’ll see,” she said, not committing beyond that initial visit, which he completely understood.

She reached across the table and grabbed the wrapped gift with his name on it. “I hope you like
your
anniversary present.”

Now
she
looked nervous, which made him curious to know what she’d bought for him. He took the present from her, and while she watched anxiously, he tore away the paper and revealed a leather bound photo book. The cover was engraved in gold lettering with
To Dean, the love of my life. Happy Twentieth Anniversary
.

She shifted on his lap, and he opened the cover to the first page, expecting to see photographs chronicling their twenty years together, but instead his jaw nearly dropped to his chest when he laid eyes on the first full-sized, glossy picture of Jillian in glorious color detail.

This wasn’t an ordinary snapshot, either. No, this image of her, dressed in a sexy, all white baby doll nightie made his heart hammer excitedly in his chest, and his dick pulse with desire. She was kneeling on the bed in their playroom, staring at the camera with a provocative come-hither look in her slumberous eyes and a tempting smile on her beautiful face. Her hands were propped on her bare knees, which were slightly spread, and the way she leaned forward pushed her full breasts up and out. Through the sheer lace, he could see her dark pink areolas, and her hard nipples.